It was referring to a "beehive" brush washer from the Qing dynasty, and I was caught by both the subject and the phrase. When this object was made, did its creator wonder what kind of life it would lead, and in whose hands it would be held? I wonder what its homes were like. I wonder if he thought that it would be smashed before too long. Look where it sits now!

...

I have stayed in this darkened room longer than all others; absorbed by the screens, I can hear the echo of my breath.

During the family's little jaunt through Chicago, we stopped at the Art Institute. The hour I had was not nearly enough to look as thoroughly as I would have liked through their Asian collection, which spanned from jades to ukiyo-e prints. I have finally seen, with my own eyes, a print of Hokusai's. Also, there was a landscape painting from China during the 18th century ... the artist, Zhu Lunhan, fingerpainted much of it. Fingerpainted!! I have a new hero!

Conclusion: there's nothing like 5 a.m. to make you feel as though all your eyelashes have fallen out, and nothing like hot sunshine on Chicago concrete to make you feel as though your eyes will pop out as well. But art (and finding a pair of simply purple boots) makes it worth it.

The only galivanting we did was walking from the Randolph Street Station to Water Tower Place, and back again. That's about as much as we can do before we have to catch a train back to the Bend - as not all trains go all the way. lol